


Mistress of the Castle

by BarPurple



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: A Monthly Rumbelling, F/M, Fluff, Pre-Relationship, the castle ships it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-25 13:13:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15641463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarPurple/pseuds/BarPurple
Summary: The castle that Rumple calls home has been exposed to all manner of magic over the years. This means it has a mind of its own and when it wants something it has the ability to do something about it.





	Mistress of the Castle

Belle sighed at the mess of scrolls littering the floor around Rumple’s desk. He claimed he had a perfectly good filing system. As far as she could see his system was to pile everything on the desk and then throw it all on the floor until he found the one he wanted. Picking them all up again was her job, which usually meant that next time he wanted a contract he would tell her off for messing with his system.

Since she was going to get told off no matter how she put them back, she’d recently taken to reading through a few of them each time she had to tidy them up. These were his template contracts, the ones he’d written up with basic clauses ready for the details to be added for things he was frequently asked for. She could understand the ones for wealth, power, healthy children, but how often did someone ask to be an ogre for a day?

Mayor for a day sounded less disturbing, but after having seen the sheer amount of things Papa delegated to the mayors of towns she couldn’t understand the appeal. Rumple often said that the deal people got was the deal the deserved, maybe this one would teach them that the grass wasn’t always greener. She carefully began rolling the scroll, mayor for a day didn’t appeal to her, but master of the castle for a day that could be fun. She shook her head, she had nothing to offer Rumple in trade, unless he’d take a promise that she’d not attempt to spin again.

“Ouch.”

Drat, she cut her finger on the edge of the parchment. She dropped the scroll onto the pile and sucked her finger, ooh that was going to be sore, such little cuts always were. She’d best put some salve on it. As she hurried to the kitchen she didn’t notice the scroll glow and unfurl itself.

 

Rumple shivered as the magic thrummed in the air. What the hell? He snapped his fingers; “Show me.”

A scroll appeared in his hand. Oh, what had that girl done? More to the point how had she managed to do this? He snorted, he’d not made this deal, there was no way he was letting his maid be master of the castle for a day. What a ridiculous notion. He stalked over to the fireplace, screwing the parchment into a ball as he went. With a flick of his wrist he tossed the ball into the hearth and clicked his fingers to ignite it. A gust of wind whooshed down the chimney and blew out the flames.

“Oh. I see. This is your doing.”

He turned on the spot and glared at the walls of the castle. The building had been home to magic of one sort or another for so long that it had a mind of it’s own. For centuries it hadn’t been a problem, but since he’d brought Belle here the damn castle was getting ideas.

“Fine! You want her in charge for a day, on your own roof tiles be it! Don’t come whining to me when she has you covered in flowers and dollies and the like.”

He shuddered, no that would not be pleasant. All those homely touches, the warmth and lightness … No! This was the Dark Castle it would not become a cozy home!

“This is your deal. I’m no part of it. I’m going out.”

The doors creaked at him in a way that sounded annoyingly like laughter.

 

Belle found Rumple sulking in his chair in the Great Hall when she arrived to do the morning dusting. She was accustomed to his moods that she barely turned around when his chair scraped over the floor and he rolled forward into something that looked like a bow. He cleared his throat and straightened up.

“Quite dramatic Rumple. Are you practicing a grand entrance?”

Damn castle preventing him from leaving and then tipping him out of his own chair to make him bow before the maid! And her playing all sweet and innocent. Hang on; if she knew she was master of the castle for the day why was she dusting? Rumple ground his heel into the floor, it was the only thing he could think of at the moment to punish the castle. Belle didn’t know she’d made a deal. It was still binding, but perhaps there was a loophole here he could work with?

“I’m bored today. Tell me how a fine noble lady spends her day. Please?”

The please was added rapidly as he spotted the chandelier give an ominous twitch. Belle didn’t it. She was too busy giving him a puzzled look. He wasn’t acting normally, was he? Hum? Right.

He twirled a hand; “You never know what information might be useful for a deal. I’m curious.”

That caused a wee smile on her face as he hoped it would. She turned back to her dusting and asked over her shoulder; “What sort of thing do you want to know?”

Oh no, that wouldn’t work. He shot a glare at the creaking door and tapped his fingers together. Ah yes, that almost sounded plausible.

“No, dearie, come and sit down. If we are to talk of courtly matters, we should play the part don’t you think?”

She brushed her hands off on her apron and tucked the duster back into the little basket she’d found to carry her cleaning materials around in. Bet the castle provided that for her to, well at least it wasn’t a magical item.

“I’ll just fetch my sewing.”

Rumple huffed; “I just want you to sit like a noble lady, is that so hard to do?”

She rolled her eyes at him; “Rumple, noble ladies do not sit idle while they talk.”

That pulled him up short. Regina was never doing anything other than plotting against Snow White when he dropped in on her. Maybe queens were different. He cocked his head to one side; “Really?”

“Really Rumple.”

“Oh, alright then.”

He was about to summon her sewing basket, but the castle beat him to it. Show-off. He smiled at Belle and extended his hand to her with a bow. Can’t walk her to her seat can you castle?

Belle raised an eyebrow when he led her to his chair at the head of the table, but she gave a gracious nod and sat down. She took up one of his shirts and set about threading a needle.

“So, what do you want to know?”

For the want of something to do with his restless hands Rumple plucked a holey sock from her work basket. He really needed to have more care about the length of his toe claws, the holes he caused in his socks were ridiculous.

“Tell me everything about a normal day for a noble lady.”

“Alright then, well…”

He’d expected the details to be rather dry and dull, but Belle was an excellent conversationalist and made everything engaging. He’d not been aware that nobles rose at dawn to say morning prayers, that would explain why Belle was always up and about bright and early. In her first days here he’d felt a little cheated that he didn’t get to shout and holler to rouse her in the mornings.

Certain aspects did surprise him.

“An hour to get dressed, with assistance?”

“Oh yes, more if there was a ball or a visiting dignitary,” – she smiled at him, - “Gowns like the one I arrived here in are impossible to put on alone.”

Rumple ducked his head and focused on the sock he was darning. How had she managed in those first days before she plucked up the courage to ask him for more suitable clothing? Belle didn’t appear to hold a grudge against him for it, but he found himself feeling odd about the situation.

Belle spoke of breakfast, planning castle events, meeting with petitioners on behalf of her father. She spoke of managing the food stores and account books. All of this before lunch.

The sock was forgotten in his lap as he looked in surprise at Belle.

“So busy. I had no idea. I thought it was all picking flowers and sighing over handsome knights.”

Belle smiled; “There was a little of that, but castles without magic do not manage themselves. The tales of courtly love have done we women a disservice by portraying us as idle lay-abouts fawning over a lover.”

“You love those books.”

Belle bit off the thread and gave her work and satisfied nod; “I do. I can appreciate a well-written fantasy while knowing that in reality those castles would be in disarray around the heroine’s ears.”

“You are more sensible than many nobles I’ve encountered.”

She looked a little flustered at his compliment, he was feeling a little flustered for having offered it.

“Thank you, Rumple.”

The castle was twitching the curtains behind Belle. Clearly it expected something more, but Rumple was at a loss. She’d be suspicious of his motives if he suggested she spent the rest of the day reading, and he dreaded what to think the castle would do if she was unhappy today. He thought over what she had told him about the duties of a noble lady. There was little point checking the pantry since the castle already provided whatever Belle needed to prepare meals. There was no need for account books, he spun more gold when he required it. Belle was the only servant here, so she hardly needed to check on her own progress with her chores. The only petitioners came to deal with him and there was no way he was letting her stand in his stead with a desperate soul looking for his brand of deal.

How was Belle not bored out of her mind here with him?

In desperation for an idea he asked; “What would you do for fun?”

“I’d read, or ride. I do miss riding.”

Now this he could work with, if the damn castle would let him. Only one way to find out.

“We could go for a ride, if it would please you.”

The castle approved of his suggestion if the way the doors opened with a flourish was anything to judge by. Belle bit her lip; did she not want to ride with him?

“I’ll need, erm an appropriate outfit, please?”

“Oh, of course.”

He rose to his feet and offered her a hand. He wasn’t going to let the castle dress her, but for the life of him he couldn’t picture what a noble lady wore to ride. He focused his thoughts on the idea of something suitable and waved his hands.

Rumple gulped as the magic cleared. Apparently, his idea of appropriate equestrian wear for Belle was forming fitting leather trousers and a jerkin that looked like a softer version of his own dragon-hide coats.

Belle rolled her shoulders and bounced on her toes as she settled the new clothing.

“This is perfect Rumple thank you.”

He cleared his suddenly dry throat and offered her his arm.

“Mi’lady?”

 

Rumple did not keep horses at the castle. Horses came with all manner of people to look after them, and all those people expected him to be interested in horse-things. As long as the beast didn’t bite, kick or try to throw him while getting him from A to B with the minimal of fuss then that was all Rumple felt he needed to know. He had a very convenient deal with the owner of the local coaching inn. When he needed horses, they were transported to the castle by magic, and when he didn’t need them they were stabled at the inn where there were many competent, enthusiastic people to care for them. The horses were indifferent about being poofed from place to place as long as they got an apple before you tried to ride them or hitch them to the coach.

The castle had, of course, decided to show off for Belle and provide a huge bushel of apples for her to pick from to placate her horse. Rumple was willing to ignore this as the castle had also thought to conjure a mounting block for Belle, which saved him the awkwardness of having to boost her into the saddle.

He wasn’t as willing to forgive what had happened to the courtyard gardens just beyond the stables.

“Oh Rumple, these weren’t here yesterday. I was just thinking the other day that the garden could use some more colour.”

More colour was an understatement. The formally bare thorny bushes, which were a perfect unsettling landscape feature for the Dark One’s castle, had burst forth into a myriad of blooms. Reds, yellows, oranges and even purples and blues; the damn garden looked like a rainbow.

And Belle was smiling at it.

“Will they last long?”

Rumple stopped grinding his teeth; “They maybe gone by tomorrow,” – he frowned as Belle made a sad little sound, - “or maybe not, you never know with magical flowers.”

She laughed and geed her horse on, leaving Rumple to wonder why the hell he had said that. As he rode by the gates he growled; “Roses don’t come in blue, idiot.”

The castle just slammed the gates behind him, which startled his horse into a faster trot. Rumple wasn’t a bad rider, he’d had plenty of time to learn, but he’d never been comfortable on a horse, why bother? Magic was far easier.

Belle was a good rider, or at least she was to Rumple’s unpractised eye. She looked so free and wild with a smile on her face and her hair streaming out behind her as she urged the horse faster and faster. Faster towards the stream, oh no. His black heart was in his mouth as he spurred his horse after her. He stood up in the stirrups for a clear view of her. His right hand raised ready to magic her to safety. And Belle made the jump with ease, laughing merrily as she landed lightly on the opposite bank. Rumple slumped back into his saddle and stared at her. She turned her horse and waved at him.

“Are you not coming?”

“Yes. I’ll use the perfectly serviceable bridge just over there.”

Even at this distance he could see Belle purse her lips. She knew that there had been no bridge there a moment ago. She had probably caught sight of the wisps of magic as they formed a nice sturdy structure. Rumple didn’t care about being caught out in such a silly use of magic. It was a hell of a lot better that ending up in the stream because his horse refused the jump, which was likely to happen since Rumple hadn’t a clue as to how one made a horse jump.

Belle was smirking at him when he joined her on the other side. He chose to ignore it. They trotted along side by side in companionable silence until the lake came into view.

“Race you to the oak by the lake?”

It was a straight run, so he nodded; “On three?”

“One, two, three!”

Belle was off like a shot. He rolled his eyes and geed his horse. A small part of him thought this was a ridiculous way for the Dark One to be spending his time, but that little voice was over-ruled by his competitive side.

Half-way to the oak and they were neck and neck. Belle threw him a quick grin, but kept her eyes focused on the track ahead of them. Rumple should have done the same but watching the joy on Belle’s face was quite the distraction. So why was she suddenly looking panicked?

“Rumple look out!”

His horse had had the sense to watch where it was going, and so stopped sharply before running into the trunk of the oak tree. Momentum carried Rumple out of the saddle and over the horse’s ear slap bang towards the trunk. With an undignified yelp he managed to use a flick of magic to twist, spring off the trunk and catch a branch with his legs. He hung upside down scowling at the horse who was happily munching grass without a care in the world.

Belle cantered over, a little breathless and asked; “Are you alright?”

Rumple twittered a giggle and twirled his hands; “I believe I won our race.”

He froze as Belle edged her horse closer and reached for his face. Her fingers tickled across his forehead as she plucked a stray leaf from his hair.

“I should have thought to pack us a picnic. We could have eaten by on the lake shore.”

Distracted as he was by Belle’s closeness, he still felt the ripple of magic from the castle. A bloody gazebo had appeared on the shore of the lake. The damn castle was going all out to impress its mistress for the day. Rumple had a passing thought that the castle was planning to oust him, but he dismissed it. This deal was time limited. Ah well, might as well take advantage of the castle’s showing-off.

“If mi’lady desires a picnic, then a picnic she shall have.”

 

He’d magicked the horses back to the coaching inn. Having made a circuit of the grounds they were now close enough to the castle to return on foot. Walking was safer anyway, he wasn’t sure he could cope with falling of a horse again today. A quick flicker of his fingers had changed Belle’s clothes back from her riding gear to her blue dress. He suspected that they would have found their way into her wardrobe thanks to the castle’s meddling.

During their picnic Belle had entertained him with stories of the nobles she had known growing up. He’d snorted at the tale of the lord who had ordered the hedges of the maze in his grounds cut down to waist height after he’d gotten lost inside three times. The tale of the Countess who insisted that all men and women wore high heels on their shoes because she was so tall and despised having to stoop had made him giggle. By the time she told him about the knight who composed poetry comparing ladies to his horse and wondered why none were complimented his sides were aching.

He told her about some of the stranger things people had requested of him, careful to stay away from his darker deals. She had heard some of the stories before, many of his deals had become the stuff of legend. The cooking pot that flooded a kingdom with porridge was a good one, as was the emperor who demanded clothing so fine no common folk could see it. Deals like these had nothing to do with his long-term goals, but they did help pass the time.

The picnic was long since finished and they had whiled away most of the afternoon before Belle realised how close the sun was to the horizon.

“I need to get started on dinner! And oh, the laundry will have to wait until tomorrow now.”

He bounced to his feet and waved a hand to clear the remains of their picnic. The castle would not be happy about Belle cooking dinner, unless; “Since I’m brushing up on knowledge today why don’t I help you? It’s been quite the time since I cooked.”

She tilted her head and gave him a curious stare. She was definitely getting suspicious of his unusual behaviour. He supposed he could just tell her about the deal she had accidently made, but that might spoil the rest of the day. Belle was never best pleased when he messed with the truth.

She shrugged her shoulders; “As you wish, but I warn you I planned a roast for tonight. I hope you can remember how to peel potatoes.”

“It’s been a few centuries, but I doubt it’s a skill you lose.”

 

He was wrong. He had lost the skill for peeling potatoes. After the second time he ended up with very little spud and a ridiculous amount of peel he’d magicked the rest out of their skins. For some reason this simple spell sent the potatoes ricocheting around the kitchen; he suspected the castle was to blame.

Belle snatched a fly-away potato from the air and shook her head; “So magic and potatoes don’t mix. What’s going to happen if I ask you to chop the carrots?”

“Hum, think I’ll just use a knife on those.”

Rumple tried not to think about that last time he had shared the pleasure of a simple task like cooking with someone. Those memories were bittersweet at best and down right painful most of the time. When Belle asked where he had learned to cook he’d deflected with a quip.

“Even beasts need to eat, and I’m not a fan of raw meat.”

She huffed a little and nudged him with her shoulder.

“I’m glad you don’t eat raw meat, I don’t think I could share a meal with you if you did.”

It was perhaps because of the melancholy memories that had been stirred up that cause him to ask; “What would your home have been like had you wed the lummox?”

Belle huffed as she added chopped mint to the potatoes; “Gaston. Difficult. His mother runs his household and by all reports Avonlea could have beaten back the ogres by putting her on the battlefield.”

Rumple frowned; “You never met her?”

“Oh no. She would not make the journey. The tone of her letters to Papa gave me a fair idea of her temperament. I doubt I would have had any say in the running of the manor, she was very clear that my primary duty was to provide an heir.”

The sudden image of Belle holding a wee babe with dark hair flashed into his mind with such force that he wondered for an instant if it was a vision. What a notion! Their deal made Belle his maid forever, where would she come by a child of her own while she was bound to him? A terrible, wonderful, horrible idea began to form in the pit of his mind. He mentally stomped on it and gave Belle a weak smile.

“There is a potion that needs my attention. Would you excuse me for a few hours?”

“Of course, Rumple. Dinner will be ready at the usual time, if that’s alright?”

“Yes, yes, wonderful.”

Rumple paced around his laboratory. He’d only named Belle as his price because it had amused him. As impulsive as his decision had been, he’d still checked that she was not destined to play a role in his plans, it had only taken a moment while her father and fiancé had been blustering. The Dark Curse was centuries in the planning and he could practically taste those that would play a part. Belle wasn’t such a person.

She’d never have a child of her own because of their deal. He’d just pictured her with a babe because he’d been thinking of Baelfire, perfectly normal reaction under the circumstances. And he wasn’t even going to give that other vague idea credit by thinking of it further. Stupid idea, totally impossible, probably just some former Dark One stirring up trouble. If he wanted to entertain crazy ideas like that he would speak with the Hatter.

Content with his reasoning he tinkered with a few small potions to fill the time before dinner. The castle, which had been suspiciously well-behaved for a few hours decided to inform him when dinner was due by conjuring a blue silk coat and a white shirt.

“Nope! Not a chance! What do you think I am, some sort of royal dandy?”

He knew he was in trouble when he heard the locks of the door click into place.

After threatening to incinerate the East wing, Rumple had beaten the castle down to a change of clothes, his regular clothes. He’d even grudgingly dragged a comb through his hair. On arriving in the dining room, he discovered that the castle had prompted Belle to change as well. The green velvet dress did suit her.

“Thank you for the gown Rumple. It’s nice to dress for dinner for a change.”

“Tis no matter. You look very nice.”

He chose to interpret the creaking floorboards as the castle’s groan at his weak compliment. Three hundred years and he was still terrible at talking to women. Thankfully he could manage manners.

 

The castle relaxed as Rumple pulled out Belle’s chair for her. It is hard to fathom the reasoning of a building, especially a magical one, but for now the castle was content. In the dining room the candles flickered, their light became softer, and a gentle music drifted from somewhere undefinable. Conversation flowed easily between the Dark One and his maid. Everything was perfect. In the unused room at the top of the west tower the contract Belle had inadvertently signed shimmered in the moonlight.

_Mistress of the Castle for a Day_

_In return for . . ._

The scroll rolled itself up and tucked itself away in a box, a secret the castle would keep forever.


End file.
